


anything old being everything new

by siojo



Series: Werewolf Au [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chases, M/M, Politics, Teasing, Werewolf Marco, holiday parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22163755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siojo/pseuds/siojo
Summary: Marco knows that Ace worries about making a good impression now that he's started to really spend time with people after waking up. Which is why the holiday party is supposed to be small, just the station and their significant others, which is exactly when the plan falls through.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Werewolf Au [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507232
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	anything old being everything new

“You are going to obsess over this, aren’t you?” Marco asks curiously, leaning against the counter to keep an eye on the timer he had set, his portion of the potluck finishing in the stove. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the increase in fashion magazines around the house.”

“I wouldn’t need them if you would just tell me what was acceptable for the holiday party,” Ace’s voice echoes strangely down from the attic, as if skipping past the entire second story so Marco can hear it without him shouting. “Are cravats mandatory?”

“Does Shanks look like the kind of man who would make everyone wear a cravat?”

Ace snorts, “Considering he spent twenty years wearing one, I think so. And those are the years that I saw him. Rumor says that he kept wearing it another sixty.”

“The most dressed up that I have ever seen Shanks was for an event that Benn brought him to. And even then it wasn’t something fancy, just nice jeans and a button up. Shanks isn’t going to make you wear a cravat, what is your obsession with cravats?”

“Someone tried to kill me the last time I wore one to a party,” Ace answers, stepping out of the wall like it was a doorway, clothing folded neatly in his arms.

“Why was someone trying to murder you?”

“Not important. Is that what you’re wearing, I thought this was a party.”

Marco grins, resting his chin on his palm, “I think we’re talking about two different kinds of parties. Parties where cravats are worn.”

“That doesn’t explain the dress code to me, fluffy. That just tells me that you no longer wear cravats,” Ace shifts the clothes in his arms slightly to free a hand. “Is what you’re wearing acceptable for the type of party that this is?”

“This is more than acceptable,” Marco answers, grinning when Ace frowns harder, his eyes narrowing. “But Ace, you can wear whatever you want, you know. You don’t have to wear what you think you’re supposed to.”

“I want to look acceptable, Marco. The last time I was invited to something, I ended up dressed inappropriately. I don’t want a repeat of that.”

Marco sighs, pushing himself upright and taking the clothes from Ace and sorting through them quickly, “Here. If you want to look nice and still stay within the dress code that everyone technically follows, this is more than enough. Maybe one of the sweaters that Luffy’s friend Nami picked up for you.”

“Right,” Ace breathes in deeply. “Shoes?”

“You can wear dress shoes, boots, or sneakers. All of them are acceptable and I’m going to leave the choice up to you,” Marco says softly, leaning closer to press a kiss to the corner of Ace’s mouth. “Relax, okay? One holiday party isn’t going to make people hate you. There’s only a handful of people in the department.”

“All of who are respected members of the community that I have to rebuild my reputation in after being unable to deal with the backlash of my mother’s death and vanishing for over a century.”

Marco hums, sliding his hands up Ace’s arms, “No one is going to begrudge your inability to cope with suddenly controlling the entire forest instead of half of it. And if they do, they can talk to one of the counselors at the hospital who deal with magical backlash and its effects.”

“Right, I know that. It’s just,” he shrugs, looking more relaxed than Marco has seen him since the holiday party invitation arrived. “I’ll get dressed. I’m sorry for overreacting?”

“You’re cute, so I’ll forgive you,” Marco teases, laughing when Ace sticks his tongue out at him. “Go get dressed. The shepard’s pie will be done soon and we have to leave ten minutes after that to make it on time.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Ace pauses, one foot already vanished into the wall. “Thank you. For you know.”

“You’re welcome.”

Marco shakes his head as Ace vanishes, probably appearing in their bedroom to fuss over the clothes that Marco had picked and then compare them to the sweaters that Nami had picked up for him on Luffy’s suggestion. It was cute, but Marco also knew that Ace could work himself up over little things like this.

He slides the timer off, stealing the oven mitts and sliding them on before pulling out the casserole dish.

“Okay,” Ace announces as Marco turns the stove off. “So?”

“You look fine,” Marco answers, putting the mitts down on the counter and stepping around to tug the collar of Ace’s sweater. “But maybe switch this around, tags go on the back.”

“How can you tell it’s the back,” Ace demands, pulling his arms in and twisting the sweater around before sliding his arms back into place. “It looks the same all the way around, how do you know it’s the back?”

“The collar comes up higher. With clothing, the front collar rides lower than the back of the collar. It’s to make sure that you don’t feel any discomfort on your airways. Otherwise, you look fine. You act like this is an important party instead of Shanks trying to pass off his shitty booze onto us.”

“You still haven’t explained how we think different things about parties.”

"When I say party, what do you think?" Marco counters, digging through the cupboard for the tin foil. "What type of party?"

"That movie, the one we watched last week. I forgot the name. But that's what I think of when someone says party.”

“Well, that had a ballroom involved, which is a very big difference between our idea of party. I have never been to a party that had a ballroom. Parties can still me something like that, but in this case, and most cases here, they’re smaller gatherings of friends to celebrate. Some of them don’t even need you to wear nice clothes.”

Ace raises an eyebrow, “That is fairly different from what I remember. This is worse than when you told me about all the folding furniture.”

“You are never going to let that go, are you?”

“There are videos of couches becoming _bunk_ _beds_, Marco. Humans have gone too far in their attempts to make many things fit into one space,” Ace pauses, pulling on his hat and searching the tub on the side table for his gloves. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready the whole time,” Marco answers, taking care as he lifts the covered dish. “I was only waiting for this to finish cooking. You were the one that only just finished getting ready.”

Ace grins, taking the dish after shrugging on his coat to let Marco do the same, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You can’t rewrite my memories, Ace.”

“History has been rewritten by many people, there is no one stopping me from following their examples.”

“After everyone involved is already dead or discredited,” Marco adds, taking the dish back. “Walk or should I drive?”

“There’s been ten inches of snow, I don’t know if your car can drive that. Not unless you’ve arranged someone to dig the pathway in,” Ace answers grinning as he steps out the door and into the snow, boots crunching. “You could let me take care of transport.”

Marco pulls a face, the door closing itself behind him as he follows Ace off the porch, “The last time you took me through your,” he gestures at one of the trees, “thing, I spent ten minutes dry heaving.”

“Last time I took you through the trees, you had been shot and I was in a hurry. This time it would be slower and you won’t be suffering from blood loss because some asshole hunter decided to investigate the rumors and shoot the cop patrolling with silver bullets. Besides, we’d actually arrive on time.”

“I hate when you use my need to be on time against me,” Marco sighs, shifting his grip on the dish to lift his elbow enough for Ace to slip his hand around his arm. “Please don’t lose me in the trees.”

Ace laughs, his eyes brighter in the moonlight, “I would never. Take a deep breath and remember to keep them shallow and even. We’ll come out at one of the trees a block from the station.”

“Right,” Marco inhales, trying to ease the tension built up along his shoulder. “Alright, lead the way.”

Watching Ace melt into trees is always disconcerting, it’s worse when Marco steps forward after him, Ace’s hand still firm on his arm, and finds the tree is soft. The feeling reminds Marco of spiderwebs, if only thicker and harder to push his way through, and it’s compounded by his inability to see. Not until Ace is helping him step solidly onto the sidewalk only ten feet from the station, smiling brilliantly.

“I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“I still feel dizzy,” Marco states, but he smiles back softly, “Thank you, I know that this can take a lot out of you, bringing someone with you.”

“It’s not that bad. Last time was different,” Ace glances over to the station. “Think we’re too early tonight or will the others have arrived?”

Marco sniffs, sneezing at the sharp cold that precedes whatever smells he might have been able to pick up. The scent of evergreen and mint are overpowering, followed by gingerbread and sickly sweet icing. It takes longer than he would like to catch anything else, but he doesn’t need to do this as often now, not living out in the middle of the woods as he is.

“Shanks and Benn are already there and I can smell liquor. Tashigi and Smoker are coming from the west, trying to convince one of the two dispatchers to lose his tie. Thatch isn’t anywhere nearby, which should mean that Izou’s not arrived yet either.”

“Is anyone else coming?”

“Not sure,” Marco answers, opening his eyes and blinking slowly to readjust. “The support staff doesn’t always come, but it’s not exactly a large group to begin with. The mayor shows up for a few minutes to give a speech and shuffles off to the fire station to do the same.”

“Your dad doesn’t stick around?”

Marco laughs at the confusion he can hear so clearly, “He circles back to the station if he’s not too tired, but he has to split his official time between both parties or the fire department thinks he’s playing favorites.”

“I thought one of your brothers worked at the fire station?”

“Jozu does, but he’s good friends with Shanks and not with the Fire Chief, which is another reason for him to circle back. It’s politics, surely your mother had the same troubles when she was around?”

Ace shrugs, grinning as holds his hands up, the starts of another snowfall drifting down, “Mom was too busy with other things. My father among them. Him and the forest. It’s not natural, you know, they grew the whole thing in less than a year.”

“I’ve heard stories that it was created fairly quickly, but not an actual time frame.”

“That’s their big romantic love story, according to Shanks. They spent a whole year loving and caring and growing the forest and fell in love themselves. Mom said that isn’t the whole story, but I was never really interested in anything to do with my father. But by the time it was done, your dad was the mayor and they were too well respected to deal with politics,” Ace pauses, taking a deep breath as he shifts from foot to foot. “Ready?”

“Don’t let Shanks spike your drink?”

“You say that like he hasn’t already spiked every beverage in the building.”

Marco sighs, “You’re right, that was too out of character. Don’t get wasted? I’ve never seen a drunken dryad, but we don’t need a carpet of flowers in the station.”

“Behave and I’ll reward you later?” Ace offers, smile just on the innocent side of teasing, wide and easy as he raises an eyebrow.

“Deal,” Marco agrees, pressing a quick kiss to Ace’s temple before he can step away. “If he makes one comment about our relationship, I refuse to hold to that.”

Ace laughs, holding open the door for him, “If he makes a comment, then I’ll make my own, Fido. Now get in the building before the shepard’s pie freezes and Shanks tries to claim that you bought it premade.”

* * *

“This is worse than premade shepard’s pie,” Shanks mutters leaning over Ace’s shoulder to grin wide and false at one of the city council members that had lingered at the party after Edward had made his speech and hurried off to the fire station to repeat it. “At least that is just subpar shepard’s pie.”

Ace bites back a laugh, keeping his voice low as he answers, “I told you, Marco spent hours on that dish. Stop telling everyone he didn’t make it, it’s bad enough this is happening.”

“That’s your fault,” Shanks reminds him, watching something that Ace can’t see in the distance. “They came here to see you after all, not me.”

“They could have waited until the council meeting on the sixth instead of inviting themselves to the station's holiday party. I came here to have a nice evening with my boyfriend and his co-workers, not be drawn into a political debate.”

Shanks snorts, looking far too smug as he waves his drink at the crowd of overly dressed men whispering to each other, “But that’s in an official capacity, they can’t try to influence your views there.”

“I can make my own choices,” Ace mutters into the glass he had barely been able to grab before Shanks had dragged him over to where the council with discussing something. His hearing wasn’t as good as Marco’s, but he didn’t miss the way they were looking at him. “If anything, I’m less likely to listen to the people who corner me.”

“They don’t know you.”

“They still didn’t have to raid your holiday party because I mentioned to Edward that I was going to attend.”

“Because you haven’t been to a single public event since your wake up and you’re more dangerous than any other member of the charter council,” Benn says, smoothing his tie as he joins them. “Marco asked me to come and see how you’re holding up.”

“This is what I get for being born,” Ace mutters, twisting enough to catch sight of the corner of the room that Marco and his co-workers have taken over, each of them looking various shades of irritated and confused. “I’ve been better.”

Shanks grins, patting Ace’s shoulder softly as his fangs glint in the low light, “Just remember, you’ve got two-fifths of the charter’s votes and I’m willing to throw my vote behind you to get some of these vultures out of office.”

“Only some of them?” Ace teases, feeling even more out of place when Shanks’ laughter draws their attention.

“Robin would help too, she’s been picking fights with Crocodile for months now.”

“Which one is that?”

“Crocodile,” Shanks repeats the name, nodding towards a man with a golden hook for a hand, preternaturally sharp teeth bared in what might have been a smile that stretched the scar running over the bridge of his nose. “He’s been implicated in some rather shady dealing against of the Luffy’s little friends. I can never remember what they all are.”

“You do know that is actually part of your job as a member of the charter.”

“You don’t know what everyone in the town is either, you’ve been asleep for too long to know that.”

“I know what all of Luffy’s friends are,” Ace counters, regretting that he’s finished his drink as he spots on of the councillors approaching. “Oh no.”

“Fucking fuck.”

Ace smiles, easy and fake the way that his mother had taught him when he was young, “Councillor, a pleasure to see you tonight.”

“The pleasure is mine. I don’t believe we’ve had the honor of being introduced,” he smiles back, almost uncomfortably wide as he holds out a hand. “I’m Doflamingo.” 

“Ace Portgas, but I’ve been told that my reputation precedes me,” Ace says politely, shaking his hand and regretting it as something feels like it’s slithering up his spine, either warning or a spell trying to take hold.

He’s fairly certain that he isn’t imagining the way Doflamingo’s face darkens briefly, his sunglasses seeming to grow to hide half of his face, before his smile grows brighter, falser, than before. The name isn’t new, Luffy and his friends had been more than willing to tell Ace about several people, Doflamingo had been one of the least liked of the lot.

“Mostly through rumors,” Doflamingo lies, as if attempting to downplay what he’s heard. Perhaps to seem uninterested.

It’s foolish of him. Ace is used to platitudes and praise, to people pretending to know less or more about him than they do, from years of working on the charter before his mother’s death, it’s nothing that he hasn’t dealt with before.

“I look forward to the meeting on the sixth,” Ace says calmly, smiling blankly as Doflamingo shifts, uncomfortable with the long since that had lingered between them. Ace knows how unsettling he can be at moments like that. “I have been looking into the information provided and the policies up for vote. To make the most informed decisions.”

“If you have any questions, I’m sure that I can free up some of my time to assist you.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I think I have that covered. Robin is very much her mother’s daughter,” Ace takes the glass that Shanks is using to play up how drunk he must be, sipping at it as Shanks frowns at him, enjoying the way that Doflamingo’s nose wrinkles in annoyance. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe that my partner is trying to get my attention.”

“But of course.”

Escaping takes longer, smiling politely and making small talk as he works his way over to where Marco has been watching him from over the shoulders of his siblings and co-workers. He doesn’t bother trying to speak to any of them, walking straight into Marco’s chest and closing his eyes to ward off the headache that he can already feel trying to form behind his eyes.

“Having a fun time playing politics then,” Izou asks softly, laughing when Ace lifts his head long enough to glare at him. “It didn’t look like it, not after Doflamingo and Moria cornered you earlier.”

Ace snorts, “They’re certainly something, but I’m sure you know that better than I do at this point. They’re more interested in trying to suss out where I stand on policies now that I’ve stated that I’ll be taking a more active role in the charter, since I’ve just returned from  _ vacation _ .”

The word sits heavy on the tip of his tongue, years dealing with the magical backlash of his mother’s death and forcing the entirety of the forest to heel and obey him, reduced to a relaxing idle time from which he could have returned from at any point.

“You would think that they would stop spreading misinformation,” Marco mutters, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of Ace’s neck as he buries his nose in Ace’s hair. “If you want me to, I’m sure that I can come up with a reason for us to leave now.”

“I’ll survive, I’ve been growing mistletoe above the heads of the ones who annoy me most and having Benn point it out to them.”

“Izou thanks you for that, by the way. He’s been adding the pictures to his blackmail collection,” Thatch says, the ice in his glass clicking as he moves his hand. “Of course I’m not supposed to mention that.”

Ace yawns, tilting his head up to rest his chin on Marco’s shoulder, “I’m sure that I haven’t heard anything,” he pauses, voice going soft. “Are you having a good time, Marco?”

“It would be better if the council decided to go back to their own parties instead,” Marco mutters in annoyance. “All I can smell is cigar smoke and lies. With a hint of something rancid and decaying.”

“Never been so glad not to have your nose, Newgate.” Smoker says stiffly. “Portgas, did you have to let them find out that you were coming to this party? I was hoping not to deal with them for a night.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know they were going to do this. I’ll make sure to arrange something for next year to keep this from happening again.”

“At least Luffy isn’t here, it would be worse,” Smoker mutters.

Ace hums in agreement, closing his eyes as he sighs heavily, going over the names of the councillors and their faces to make sure he wouldn’t mistake them for someone else at a later time, letting his attention drift for a minute before focusing back on the conversation around him.

“I don’t think I'm going to stay too much longer,” Tashigi admits with a sigh, her heels tapping on the ground in time with the softly playing music. Something from the top hits, Ace thinks distantly. “I can’t deal with another two hours of political nonsense when I came here prepared to lose horribly to my boss in a drinking contest.”

“The annual contest is ruined,” Thatch agrees, though he doesn’t sound very upset. “And after I worked so hard to make sure that we wouldn’t have to deal with Shanks’ shit choice in booze. I’m going to have to sneak all the booze under my desk home.”

“Probably better to do it tomorrow. I can come help you since Shanks won’t be in and Smoker’s probably going to be sleeping at his desk,” Marco offers.

Smoker hisses and Ace can smell the smoke curling out of his mouth, “I do not sleep at my desk.”

“Say that to the photo album,” Tashigi smiles sweetly, giggling when Smoker clears his throat. “You know, the one dedicated to you sleeping at or on your desk? I think we’re almost out of room to add more pictures. Coby and Helmeppo always take the best ones, they take the time to arrange you to look silly first.”

“We do not!” Coby hisses, scrambling to hide behind Tashigi as Ace finally lifts his head. “You can’t keep blaming us for things you do!”

“Still okay,” Marco whispers into Ace’s hair, thumb pressing against his neck. “I know you wanted to stay and deal with this, but it’s not your responsibility. We can go home whenever you want to.”

Ace sighs, “I have to make my excuses before we leave. Tired?”

“Mhm, not really.”

“I’ll make my excuses. We could take the long way home? See if we can’t at least salvage some of our evening,” Ace smiles softly when Marco huffs a laugh, quiet and muffled but real. “Sorry for all of them showing up.”

“Still not your fault,” Marco repeats, lifting his head to steal a kiss, hand cupping Ace’s cheek as he pulls back, thumb stroking over skin. “I’m going to see if we can save our baking dish. Meet you at the door in ten minutes?”

“Closer to twenty,” Ace sighs, leaning into the touch, because as much as he would love to just up and leave, he was raised to be more polite than that. He could work on alienating people later, after he figured out who he wanted to alienate most. “Meet you at the door?”

“Twenty minutes,” Marco repeats, kissing him again. “Good luck.”

Ace hums, taking a deep breath before he makes his way back over to where Shanks is attempting to hold court, for all that Dracule Mihawk and Buggy appear to be trying to escape him, waiting for a lull in the conversation to insert himself. Not that he has to wait, though Buggy takes the opportunity to slip away after waving, vanishing over to where Benn is speaking with a taller man with sharp teeth. 

“Headed out then?” Shanks asks grinning widely as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Already?”

“I’m tired,” Ace answers honestly, laughing when Mihawk fails to escape the arm Shanks has wrapped around his shoulders. “Besides which, this isn’t what I was prepared to deal with when I arranged to come to this party.”

Mihawk’s expression is mild, but Ace has learned that is almost always his expression even when he’s furious, “I would apologize, but my appearance was mandated. To my understanding, we’re trying to win your favor before you retake your position, never mind that your votes before your medical leave are not aligned with the members who planned this.”

“Winning my favor is a little easier when you don’t ruin something for someone I care for. It was nice to see you again Mihawk, but if you’ll pardon me, I need to say my goodbyes before I can head home.”

“Likewise.”

“Don’t kill them,” Shanks adds, sloshing his drink over the edge of the glass, eyes too sharp to be as drunk as he was pretending. “Good night!”

Marco is already waiting patiently for him at the door by the time Ace finally extracts himself from the conversation that Doflamingo had attempted to drag him into, not even bothering to pull on his coat before he pushes his way out the station and away from the glow of the lights.

“Is it always like that?” Marco asks curiously, tangling their fingers together as Ace breathes slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth, twisting into frost as it floats away. “The council trying to get your attention or sway your vote?”

“Wasn’t like that before,” Ace says finally, smiling softly when Marco squeezes his hand. “They’re supposed to provide the members of the charter with the views of those who voted them in. To give us a closer look at what the people of the town want without the worry they’re going to tell us what we want to hear.”

Marco laughs, “Public opinion, then?”

“Something like that. Maybe public insight is a better phrase, but it sounds like they haven’t stayed that way. Mihawk’s been on the council on and off for years. He’s good friends with Shanks and he’s fought us, the charter council, on laws and regulations more than once. The others,” he shrugs, tired and worn in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. “I’m sorry they invaded your work party.”

“You didn’t tell them to come.”

“It’s still my fault, they came because I’ve been taking my time returning to my office and to the public eye. It’s been a whole year since I woke up, Marco, and I’m still more likely to stay home than I am to get involved with the community and my own responsibilities.”

“You should be allowed time to reaculmize before being rushed to complete your duties,” Marco says calmly, smiling when Ace looks over at him. “Want to head home?”

“The long way? I wanted to walk at least part of the way home.”

Marco laughs, tugging Ace closer for a hug, letting him sink into the embrace, “I think that can be arranged.”

* * *

“Do you want to talk about it?” Marco asks softly, feeling the way the snow is melting through his hat and soaking it as he lays in the snow, staring up at the snow falling more heavily now. “You don’t have to, of course, but it’s an option.”

Ace laughs, and for all that Marco can’t see him from where he’s laying, Ace doesn’t sound unhappy, “Not really. It’s easy to understand why they showed up and I know what they want out of me. Things stay remarkably the same for all that times change.”

“I hear politics are like that.”

“From your dad?” Ace asks, but he doesn’t bother to wait for the answer. “I think it’s more to do with people. But thank you, for asking.”

“I’m your boyfriend, of course I’m going to ask.”

“I’ll do better next year.”

Marco grins, unable to help himself as something warm comes to life in his chest, “You’re already planning to join me at my work’s holiday party next year? Does that mean you think we’ll still be together then?”

“I want to be,” Ace admits with a yawn. “I like you and we’ve talked about this before, you know. Making plans for the future and everything.”

“It’s nice to hear you say them, sometimes you’re a bit inscrutable,” Marco teases, pushing himself up and laughing as Ace sticks his tongue out at him. “I know why you are, but it can be difficult sometimes to get past that.”

“I thought I was getting better. I want to get better, you know that I love you, but I want to be able to show it. Not like,” he gestures, giving up on his snow angel to wave his hand through the air. “I don’t remember the television show that you showed me.”

“Which one? There’s been a number of them.”

“The one with the magic and teenagers?”

“Which one?”

Ace rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean. With the making out in public and the other nonsense. I don’t want to do that, but I want to be able to interact more normally.”

“You’re doing fine, you know,” Marco says softly, tangling his fingers in the damp ends of Ace’s hair, tugging softly. “I’d like you to talk to me more about some things, but you’re trying and that’s enough.”

“I see,” Ace mutters, smiling as he relaxes back against the snow, giving up on his snow angel for now.

“Like that,” Marco teases, laughing as Ace flicks a handful of snow at his face. He tugs Ace’s hair harder in revenge, shifting to lean over the edge of their angels without breaking them. “It’s still better than a number of exes that I’ve had.”

“Communication is important for relationships to flourish,” Ace recites, as if by rote, tilting his head to the side to loosen Marco’s hold. “Between you, the therapist Shanks forced on me, and my re-establishment councillor I have heard that phrase more times than I could possibly count.”

“I know, but it’s true and you’ve taken it to heart.”

Ace hums, and Marco doesn’t miss the way his gaze drops to his mouth before meeting his eyes again, “I think it’s time to head home, don’t you? It’s late and the weather report said something about the storm getting worse. It wouldn’t do to be caught out in it, I might not get sick, but you aren’t half as lucky.”

“We both know that is a lie, or do you not remember the cold that you suffered through before we got together,” Marco asks, fingers still tangled in Ace’s hair. “But to go home, you have to get out of the snow, my love.”

“That sounds like a lot of effort.”

Marco smiles, leaning closer as his other hand curves along the side of Ace’s throat, thumb sliding up and over the curve of his jaw, “I don’t know about effort, it’s not that far home, but I do remember being promised a reward.”

“A reward,” Ace repeats softly, even as Marco can feel his breath hitch under his fingertips. “I don’t remember anything about rewards.”

“You don’t? That sounds strange, after all, you promised that if I behaved during the party, that I would get a reward. And I think that I behaved myself tonight, don’t you?”

“You were well behaved,” Ace agrees slowly, his eyes glittering with mischief as he smiles. “Would you like to play a game?”

“A game?”

“Mhm, one game and whoever wins gets a reward. What do you think of that, Marco?”

Marco raises an eyebrow, thumb pressing just under Ace’s jaw to make him lift his head to reveal the line of his throat, “I thought I was already going to get a reward.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a second one,” Ace whispers, one hand sliding up Marco’s arm to his shoulder and up the back of his neck to tangle in his hair, “Two rewards and all it takes is one little game?”

“And what pray tell, is this little game?”

“A chase,” Ace answers, like he doesn’t know exactly what those words do to Marco. “I’ll run and you’ll chase. If I make it home first, then I win. If you catch me before I get to the house, you win.”

“Rules?”

Ace hums, tugging Marco’s hair until Marco can’t help but lean down for a kiss just like Ace wants, “I can only go along the actual path and I can’t use my powers to go straight home.”

“I want a few concessions,” Marco mutters against Ace’s mouth as he steals another kiss. “To make it a real game, what do you think?”

“Concessions?” Ace asks, Marco can’t help the hint of pride he feels at the breathless sound of Ace’s voice. “What kind of concessions?”

“You can’t travel more than certain distance and you can’t use the same tree twice. I think that sounds fair, don’t you?”

“How far?” Ace asks, looking far too interested. Marco would be insulted if he didn’t know how much Ace enjoyed the challenge of their chases. But it also means it would be harder to distract him. “Four feet?”

“Three.”

Ace laughs, “Deal!” he vanishes, leaving Marco to topple over into the place he had been, pushing himself up to the sound of Ace’s laugh, forcing the snow from his eyes, “Catch me, if you can.”

Marco catches sight of him, grinning before he takes off at a sprint down the hill that they had been sitting on, dodging several trees as Marco tumbles to his feet after him. There’s always a rush when they do this, when Marco is as much chasing the sound of Ace’s laughter as he is Ace’s scent, hurrying after him as fast as he can.

It’s a touch of skin here as Ace dances out of his grasp and a tug of clothing there as Marco’s nails catch on the clunky knit of Ace’s sweater, a dance they’ve done numerous times as they reach the forest and vanish inside.

“Missed me! Missed me! Now you gotta kiss me,” Ace sings as he ducks under Marco’s hand, sprinting to the next tree, putting it between him and Marco, but not vanishing into it. “Unless you’re too slow to catch me.”

“Never,” Marco answers, breath hissing through his teeth as his fingers brush Ace’s sweater, unable to grab him as he vanishes into the tree. “Damn it!”

Ace’s laughter echoes, either because of the quiet night or use of his own magic, Marco isn’t sure, but it works well enough throwing off his hearing. Just enough to miss the scrape of boots on ice or the slap of skin on bark. At first.

“Got you,” Marco shouts, tackling Ace into the snow and pinning him in place, breathless. Ace laughs, face flushed and just as breathless. “I’ve got you.”

“Well, well,” Ace says smiling prettily as he lifts his arms to curl around Marco’s neck. “It looks like you win, Mr. Big Bad Wolf. Are you going to eat me up?”

“That’s a horrible line.”

“It is a great line. Are you saying that you don’t like it?”

Marco bites back a laugh, “I never said that I didn’t like it, I said it was a horrible line.”

“It’s an excellent line. Do you know how many lines work for wolves, the answer is not many and there’s some very interesting stories about Little Red Riding Hood these days. And the one about the boy who cried wolf, I hear.”

“Red is a nice color on you,” Marco mutters, smirking as he ducks his head to press his mouth to Ace’s throat, scraping his teeth against is. “Can I get my reward, love?”

Ace shivers, thumbs pressing against the back of Marco’s neck as he presses soft kisses up to the curve of his jaw, ignoring the cold of the snow under his knees, “ _ Yes _ ,” he swallows hard, legs wrapping around Marco’s waist. “You’re going to have too much fun with this.”

“You can always tell me to stop,” Marco promises, pushing up to his feet, one hand sliding to help Ace stay in place. “Just say the word and I won’t do anything.”

“I know,” Ace promises, licking his lips as Marco carries him up the stairs to the front door, already open for them. “Have I ever mentioned how hot it is that you can lift me up like that, like it’s nothing?”

“Maybe once,” Marco answers, pressing Ace against the wall to keep his balance as the door closes and locks behind them, trying to kick off his shoes as Ace’s hands move. “Ace?”

“I love you,” Ace says softly, smile warm and easy.

Marco kisses him, hand curving to cup Ace’s cheek as he pulls away, resisting the urge to lean back in for another, “You always save that for the worst times.”

“I save it for the best times. I would call you love too, so you know I mean it all the time, but I don’t think it works as well coming from me, but,” Ace digs his heel into the small of Marco’s back, smirking when Marco pushes closer to escape it. “I thought this was supposed to be your reward time.”

“If we can get undressed,” Marco mutters, one hand sliding underneath Ace’s sweater as he kisses Ace, slow and teasing.

“I’m sure we can think of something."


End file.
